Lover Lay Down
by whowhatsitwhich
Summary: "We've survived," she retorted, fighting back a sudden surge of tears. "We need to do more than that. We need to live otherwise what's the point. I keep thinking about what Maggie said and she's right. If I had to choose survival for its own sake or living even though I know how quickly it can all be taken away, I'd still want to live."
1. Chapter 1

Lover Lay Down

"_The most beautiful people I've known are those who have known trials, have known struggles, have known loss, and have found their way out of the depths." ― Elisabeth Kübler-Ross_

"If you want to live, you have to become strong," her voice shook as her hands clamped down on the girl's thin shoulders. "This world is harsh and cold and unforgiving. You have to trust your instincts and act quickly or you'll die. You can't hesitate." Carol finally took note of her vise like grip and stepped back, running a hand distractedly through her close-cropped hair.

Lizzie's tear reddened eyes roamed the fence line, searching the horde of walkers. "He's gone," she murmured. "He was special and they killed him." She put a hand to her mouth to stifle a sob. "They killed Nick." The girl's grief erupted in a fount of tears as she whirled and ran across the field back to the cell block.

Mika watched her sister go with a look of disdain. She eyed Carol coldly before announcing, "She's not weak. She's just messed up." With that, she trailed after Lizzie, scuffing her shoes in the dirt as she went.

Carol folded her arms across her chest as she watched them go, her mind whirling from one thought to the next. What was she going to do with them? How could she keep them safe when one of them seemed hell bent on denying what was right in front of her? Carol tucked her hands into her sides, a shiver working its way up her spine. She knew that feeling. She'd been there and done that more than she cared to admit. Treat it as if it's not real and it goes away. Send it where it can't hurt you anymore. "My Sophia was alone in the woods," she mouthed quietly. "She died a long time ago." How those words burned, even more now than when she'd first spoken them. She had used them as a shield to keep from having to face what she'd just seen.

It was the only way she had to cope then. She couldn't face the reality of having to put her baby in the ground so she told herself that the husk left behind wasn't Sophia. It wasn't the little girl she'd spent a lifetime protecting and sheltering. She wasn't the thing that wandered sightless out of the barn, her flesh rotting even as she stumbled across the barnyard. Rick hadn't just put down the last remnants of Sophia when he pulled the trigger. No, he'd also taken the last of Carol's old life and thrust her into a world that didn't make sense. She wasn't a wife or mother anymore. That ceased when Sophia drew her last breath.

She felt more than saw him turn her way and hazarded a quick look toward the sagging fence. Daryl had his crossbow slung over his shoulder, gesturing toward the cross braces that had hastily been put into place. He nudged one with his boot and watched as the heavy timber flexed and bent with the movement. She couldn't hear his words but his actions were telling. He wasn't happy with their temporary fix. He didn't think they would hold. She shivered again, the thought of that thin barrier being pushed aside. What would they do then? They'd be trapped like rats in a box.

Those eyes moved over her again, weighing and measuring. Despite how tired she was, how emotionally bereft; Carol somehow found herself straightening her back and squaring her shoulders. He had enough to worry about without her adding to it. Lifting her chin, she met his gaze across the yard, lifting a hand to shade her eyes against the tipping sun. She smiled slightly as his hand fell away from the strap angled across his chest. She was off the hook for now it seemed. He gave one of his short nods before turning his attention back to the fence. She took her reprieve and headed for C block to clear some space for the girls.

Xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

The discovery of the burned bodies in the courtyard and rat corpses littering the grass just outside the fence had everyone on edge. Something more insidious than the dead walking had revealed itself in their midst. Their brief respite had come to a quick and dirty end. The council floundered as they tried to stem the tide of panic and distrust flooding the prison. More than ever, a voice of reason was needed. It usually fell to Carol to be that touchstone but she was torn between her instinctive need to protect her own and her hard won urge to find the threat and end it. Wipe it from the face of the Earth. It ran through her like an electric current. Carol found herself not only identifying with but empathizing with Merle Dixon. The man had been nothing if not efficient and had a way of cutting through the bullshit to get right to the heart of the matter. She longed for that instead of this endless circling. They needed a plan and they needed it now.

"We can't have people wandering around by themselves anymore," she interjected. "We got lazy and it cost us. We'll have to set up around the clock guards in the cell blocks in addition to those outside. We'll assign pairs and make sure they understand that they have to stay together. It's the only way to keep people safe until we figure this out."

Glenn raised a hand. "Maggie and I are already working on a roster," he offered. "We should have it done by midday. We've staggered the pairings so that everyone's mixed up. Nobody who came in together will be with one of their own." He grinned at Daryl's approving nod before continuing. "We exempted a few from this rule. Michonne will be on the sidelines until her foot heals as will Beth since she'll be watching Judy. Rick wanted Carl to be with him so we took that into account. Carol we're keeping you out of the rotation for now as well. We're leaving it up to you to decide where you think you can do the most good."

She knew they were all watching her, waiting for her response. She kept her eyes on her clasped hands as she mulled it over. She couldn't help but notice the way Daryl's leg bounced next to her. He had sat quietly for most of the meeting, offering up cogent comments when necessary. The bouncing leg was the first sign of unrest that he'd given. Unbidden, her gaze shifted toward him and she was shocked to find him staring back intently. Her brows lifted, silently questioning. _What do you want_?

"I'll take my turn on guard duty like everyone else," she announced. "We need every pair of eyes. The kids will have to be monitored more closely. Some of them are the worst offenders for going off on their own."

"You're with me," Daryl decided. "Some of the Woodbury people can help with the heavy lifting when it comes to minding the kids." He cocked a brow, mouth quirking as he added. "Best if you keep doing story time though."

She didn't ask how he knew about story time. Probably wouldn't get a straight answer anyway. It was clear that he was aware of what she'd been doing in the library all this time and approved. Her heart pounded double time in her chest. If he knew what, it was likely that he also knew why. Unexpected warmth coursed through her veins, a heady rush of affection for the man sitting next to her. He never had to ask how or why. Somehow, he just knew.

"I'm fine with that," she acquiesced. "The roster is a good idea, Glenn. It will keep people occupied. Let me know if I can help."

"So," Hershel stated. "We have a plan then. We need to dispose of the bodies and clean out D. People need to be checked for signs of illness and quarantined if need be. Dr. Subramanian is doing an inventory of what medical supplies we have. Depending on what he finds, we may need to organize a run. Carol you would be a good person to go along since you're familiar with most of what we'll need. Rick will take you." Hershel's eyes flicked sideways. "Daryl, we need you to help dispose of the bodies. Wear a mask and gloves. They have to be burned. We have limited land to use for crops. We can't take the chance of contamination. I wish we had enough fuel to run the incinerator." He shook his head, already dismissing the thought. Wishful thinking wasn't something they could indulge in anymore.

Carol pushed back from the table and climbed to her feet, mind already on the upcoming run. There weren't many places that hadn't been stripped bare already. Runs were limited to necessities because of the distance they had to go. Medical supplies were at a premium. Depending on what Dr. Subramanian needed, they might be gone for days. Carol rubbed her eyes with the pads of her fingers, before moving up to her temples. The dull throbbing eased but didn't fade. The girls would have to be told. Mika would understand but Lizzie was still so very fragile. She reacted badly to the slightest change, either shutting down completely or running outside to stare blindly at the mass of walkers.

"It'll be alright," his voice right at her ear pulled her head around.

Giving him a small smile, she bumped his shoulder with hers. "Will it? Promise?"

He squinted down at her as he gnawed at his thumbnail, his usual telltale sign that he was thinking hard before speaking. "I don't know," he stated finally. "We've managed this long."

"We've survived," she retorted, fighting back a sudden surge of tears. "We need to do more than that. We need to live otherwise what's the point. I keep thinking about what Maggie said and I think she's right. If I had to choose survival for its own sake or living even though I know how quickly it can all be taken away, I'd still want to live."

"That's what we're doing, Carol," he chose his words carefully, eyes on the bolt waggling back and forth in his restless hands. "We can't do this with just us anymore. You told me that."

"You're right," she whispered tiredly. "It's just so damned hard."

"I know," he answered softly. "But I'm here and you're here and we're gonna get through this."

She sidled closer until his warmth surrounded her. She leaned into him, drawing strength from the steady beat of his heart beneath her ear. He tensed at her first hesitant touch before letting out a breath. His arm slid carefully around her waist, drawing her in. "You stay safe out there."

For some reason, that phrase made her laugh. She buried her face in his shoulder, his leather vest smooth as silk against her cheek. "I think I still have a few lives left," she teased, pleased to hear his soft huff of laughter. "Don't worry. I'll be fine."

"I know you will," Daryl returned. "I'm just saying that I…uh...that is…I'm tired of losing people. So when I say be safe, you damn well better get back here in one piece."

An impish smile lit up her face but her eyes were somber as they met his. "I'll be fine," she repeated.

Heavy boots could be heard making their way down the hall. They backed up, studiously avoiding each other's eyes as Rick rounded the door. "There you are, Carol. Hershel said that Dr. S is almost done with his inventory. He wants to go over the maps to see if we can find some worthwhile places to look."

Carol nodded before following Rick to the door. She paused just long enough to give Daryl a reassuring smile over her shoulder that he returned with a quirk of his lip. "Hey, Rick," he called suddenly. Both stopped and turned back, Rick in amused inquiry while Carol hastily scanned his face for some clue about why he stopped them. He didn't look at her; instead he pinned Rick with a firm stare. "Bring her back," he ordered.

A smile hovered at the edges of Rick's mouth but he didn't let it break free. Instead, he nodded solemnly and walked out of the room leaving her to look from one to the other in stunned surprise. Neither man acknowledged her as they left through opposing doors. _Bring her back_. Carol decided to let it go for now. She would come back one way or another. And then they were going to have the talk they'd been dancing around for far too long.

End Part 1

_Don't be us too shy  
Knowing it's no big surprise  
That I will wait for you  
I will wait for no one but you  
Look please lover lay down  
Spend this time with me  
Together share this smile  
Lover lay down  
~__**Lover Lay Down, Dave Matthews Band**_

A/N so this was intended to be a one shot…but it didn't turn out that way. I think there is at least one more part before I call this one done. The song is "Lover Lay Down" by the Dave Matthews Band. It gives me loads of Caryl feels. Review if you like. Thanks for taking time to check out my stories. I'm on Tumblr as whowhatsitwhich…..stop in and say hello.


	2. Darkness, Sweetness, Sadness, Weakness

Lover Lay Down

Chapter 2: the darkness, the sadness, the sweetness, the weakness

_I've been treated so wrong_

_I've been treated so long_

_As if I'm becoming untouchable_

_I'm a slow dying flower_

_Frost killing hour_

_The sweet turning sour_

_And untouchable ~ My Skin by Natalie Merchant_

She knew the minute she saw him manning the gate that something had happened. He let them through the big metal barricade before rolling back the chain link so the truck could ease through. Rick pulled up just enough to let him close the gate. He then climbed in the back and banged on the roof after he'd settled in with his crossbow held loosely at his side.

She turned to give him a smile but it faltered after catching a glimpse of his grim expression. Her brows lifted a silent question that he answered with a shake of his head. _Wait_, it said. _Now's not the time_. Her heart did a slow turn in her chest, a strange combination of elation and dread firing her nerves. A muffled groan slipped out, pulling Rick's gaze to her. "Carol," he queried softly. "Everything alright?"

She bit back a reflexive nod, instead glancing over her shoulder where Daryl sat looking out over the field. "No," she returned. "No, I don't think it is." She studied him, trying to gauge from the stiff set of his shoulders just how badly things had gone wrong.

Rick's fingers beat out a rapid tattoo against the steering wheel, darting a look from her to the rear view mirror and back. "How do you…what did..?" Carol waved him off, a ripple of panic leaching the color from her cheeks. "We can't just assume. We wait until we know the facts," Rick ordered hoarsely. He tapped the gas a little too roughly, bouncing Daryl against the side of the truck. If her heart hadn't lodged somewhere in her throat, she'd have laughed at the disgusted look he turned their way.

"Let's take care of the stuff and then we'll find out what's going on," Carol folded her hands over her stomach, trying to act more confident than she felt. Truth be told, she was close to panic even though her face was impassive. He never took a gate shift, preferring to walk the fence or man one of the guard towers. There had to be a reason for it. He wouldn't be there otherwise.

Rick brought the truck to a stop just outside of C and threw the door open the second the motor cut off. He let Daryl drop lightly to the ground before commenting, "We found some stuff for Hershel. I want to get everything unloaded as soon as possible. We'll grab a couple of the others and get it knocked out then we'll talk about what has you manning the gate when it's Bob's shift."

Daryl grunted an affirmative, gnawing on his thumb as he studied Carol from beneath shaggy bangs. "Probably catch a few in the cafeteria. There's not a lot of able bodies wandering around. Give me a sec and I'll be right with ya." The two men shared a look, something inexplicable passing between them. It sent a chill up her spine, even as it knotted her stomach tighter. "Come on," Daryl nudged her shoulder. "Need to talk to ya."

Carol trailed after him, leaving Rick to stare wordlessly at their retreating backs. He made as if to follow before deciding to go into the cell block instead. She found herself wishing he had come along, that something would stop whatever was coming. She didn't want to know, but couldn't face not knowing. Neither could she shy away. Whatever it was, she would face it on her feet. She stared at the faded angel's wings, wondering for the hundredth time what they meant and why he wore them. She doubted his reasons would ever come to light. Some secrets he held to as tightly as he ever had and some lines not even she felt safe to cross.

He kept moving until they were in a smallish courtyard well away from the others. It had been cleared several months ago but hadn't been put to use yet. It was free of prying eyes and listening ears, which seemed to be what he wanted. "Daryl," her softly spoken plea pulled him up short. His shoulders shifted beneath those tattered wings as he slipped the crossbow's strap over his head before turning to face her. "Just tell me."

His face hardened briefly, an odd reluctance clinging to him before he drew himself up and looked her right in the eye. "Lizzie's dead," he said, watching her closely. "Found her this morning."

A creeping numbness filled her up and overflowed, leaving an aching void behind. Another one gone. Another one lost, another child that she'd sworn to protect. Tears slipped down her face, burning and warm…blood warm against her cool skin. Her pulse thundered in her ears, drowning out the rest of his words so that she gave no reaction when he put a hand on her shoulder and shook her. "Carol," his honeyed drawl flowed around her name, turning it into something beautiful, something cherished. Calloused fingers tipped up her chin, bringing her gaze up to his. "Hey now, look at me." Her lids fluttered, her vision tunneling and narrowing until it blotted out everything but him and his hands on her face. "Carol," he murmured again.

"How did it…what happened?" She pushed the words out, metallic and bitter on her tongue. _Not this_, she prayed silently. _Anything but this, God. I can take anything but this_. "Was it the flu? Did she turn?"

He shook his head. "Jeanette did. She was in the bed next to Lizzie. The cells were made to keep people separate but they weren't designed with kids in mind. Closest we can tell is that she managed to reach through the bars. Others said she was talking to her like some damned pet. Jeanette was on her before she could pull back. Dr. S did what he could but," his voice tapered off, hesitation clear in his tone. "But it was too fucking late. She was already gone."

"Who put her down?" Carol swallowed past the lump in the throat, remembering the troubled little girl and the promise she'd made to her father. His sigh was quiet, muted. Most wouldn't have caught it but she did. She knew ever fidget, every tell that gave him away. "I'm so sorry," she mumbled, her fingers twined with his, holding their joined hands to her chest. "It shouldn't have been you."

Her chin fell, tucked in tight, her breath ebbing and flowing over their clasped hands. "We cleaned her up," he whispered. "Wanted to wait until you got back before we put her in the ground. There was four in all. Hopefully, the medicine we brought back will slow it down. Hershel's tea is doing a good job of keeping the fevers down. Whenever you're ready, we can go."

She held his hand to her lips, closing her eyes as his thumb made a slow pass over the curve of the lower. Sighing, she straightened and blinked back a hint of tears. Not now. She couldn't do this now. "I need to find Mika and try to explain this," her hands fluttered helplessly as she dropped his, turning in an aimless circle. "She'll be devastated to lose her sister so soon after her father." She took a few uncertain steps back before stopping abruptly and bending over arms crossed tightly over her middle. He hurried toward her, stopping as she shot him a quelling look, her knuckles pressed to her lips. Choking sounds escaped her before she turned her head and vomited into the dirt.

"Carol," his urgent voice boomed as he bolted toward her. Bile burned her throat and knotted her gut, causing her to kneel again. Had it been anything but what it was, she might have laughed. He'd said her name more in the last five minutes than the past five months together. It was a damnable irony, one she would have appreciated had things been different.

"Don't," she held up a staying hand. "I'm alright, really. Just give me a minute and I'll be fine."

He hovered close by, fists opening and closing reflexively. Carol knew she'd probably hurt him, refusing to let him help her but as before, the numbness settled deep in to the pit of her stomach and stayed. _Another one gone_. The thought shook her, echoing back and forth until it drowned out everything else. All of it for nothing. It hadn't helped one goddamn bit when it came right down to it. Every sacrifice, every callus and aching muscle, every illicit lesson, and whispered prayer, every carefully hoarded spark of hope was useless. "I'll go help Rick," he told her softly, hand perched over her shoulder but not touching. "I'll be back when I'm done."

She watched him walk away through slitted eyes, clouded with tears that she refused to let fall until she was alone. Sobs shook her as she fell to her knees, fingers scoring ragged trenches in the dirt. All of it for nothing. The bodies smoldering and charred in the courtyard, the guilt like a millstone around her neck when Tyreese asked her to watch out for Sasha, the woman's leaden eyes when they shared a look through the glass.

Her admission had been on spur of the moment, born of a need for somebody, anybody to know and understand what she'd done and why she'd done it. Rick seemed the logical, safer choice at the time. He'd killed his best friend. He knew better than anyone how making the tough calls took away part of your soul. Rick asked and she had answered. Never mind that David was frothing at the mouth when she and Sasha went to the isolation cells with no plan and no idea what they might find. Never mind that Karen lay in a slowly widening pool of blood, limbs twitching and yellow tinged eyes rolled back in her head as she struggled to rise. The reaction had been instinctive, kill them before they turned and killed.

Afterward, the reason for doing it paled to the fact that it was done. Burning the bodies had been her call. It broke her heart but she did it with no thought other than those she loved up in the cell block. She and Sasha had only a passing hope that it would stop the infection, that all would be well. The next round of victims swiftly disabused her of that notion. Now, another child was gone. Her legs gave way, sending her sprawling face first into the torn Earth. Not for the first time, she wished that she had died with Sophia, or with T-Dog in the tombs. All the strength in the world, all the weapons mastered, all the people who looked to her didn't change the fact that, in the end, she had failed them just when they needed her the most. .

Xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

Rick looked startled when Daryl showed up without Carol and began to unload the truck without as much as a word. He looked back the way the man had come, brows pulled together tightly when she didn't soon follow. "Carol go back to C block?" He prodded Daryl as he tugged a heavy bag closer to the tail gate before tossing it over his shoulder. Rick grew even more anxious when Daryl looked concerned but paused only to shake his head before shouldering the bag and heading off toward the open door. Rick grabbed a box and sped after his friend. "Where'd she go then, up to the admin building to check on Beth and the kids?"

Daryl stopped and spun to face him, a resigned look on his face. "Had to tell her about Lizzie," he confessed. "She took it hard. Said she was going to talk to Mika. I want to get this shit done so that I can go check on her. She don't need this, Rick. You know that."

Rick's mouth dropped open, the box dangerously close to slipping before he caught himself. "Lizzie's dead," he asked in disbelief. "How? When?" He bit off an oath, pulling Daryl's alarmed gaze to him. "Damn it," he growled. "Why didn't you tell me? How many others? What the hell happened?"

"I ain't going through it again," Daryl stated. "She got bit when one of the others turned. Had to put her down myself." He jerked his head toward the prison. "She blames herself. Promised their daddy that she'd watch out for them. She's gonna take this hard, harder than she should. Ain't her fault, Rick."

The admission hit the former Sheriff like a punch to the gut. He knew just how far Carol had gone to keep her promise. It curdled his stomach but, God help him, he understood it. The question now was how much did Daryl know and was it his place to tell him if she hadn't. One look at his friend's tortured gaze settled his doubts. He drew a deep breath, praying that he wasn't wrong. "I need to talk to you." Daryl gave him an odd look but set the bag down and gestured for him to go on. "There's something you should know…."

Xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

She was lying on her side when he found her, knees pulled up into her chest and arms tucked underneath her pillow. She looked over her shoulder at the sound of his boots on the floor but turned away once her eyes found his. She scrubbed her cheek with a trembling hand before wedging it beneath the pillow. "Sorry," she mumbled. "I was going to find you but..." Her voice broke, trailing off as she fought for control. "Is it done?"

He shook his head as he made his way to the bunk, easing down on the floor beside her. "Yeah, it's done." He dropped his gaze to his clasped hands, avoiding her tear reddened eyes. "Put them at the far end of the field. Mika put some golden rods on her grave, said they were her favorite." He stopped as she gulped noisily and waited until she shifted before he continued. "I'll walk you down when you're ready, if you want."

"I don't know if I can," she whispered, turning her face into the pillow.

He eased closer, his hand moving of its own accord toward her. He hesitated, unsure of what to do next, how to respond. "Fuck it," he hissed and levered himself off the floor to slide in behind her, gathering her in and pulling her closer. "I won't let you do this," he grated out. "Don't shut me out."

She was stiff as a board in his arms, muscles taut as she instinctively tried to keep some distance between them. His words, mumbled in her ear, broke her resolve. Tears beaded and fell and she made no effort to stop them. She burrowed into him, letting the sound of his heart calm her racing thoughts. _Please let me keep this, _she pled silently. _I need this. Please, please let me keep it._

"If you knew, if you knew what I've done, you'd hate me," she breathed the admission into the crook of his neck. "I can't….I don't….God, Daryl, I can't do this anymore."

He tugged her even closer until he was wrapped around her, one hand cradling her head while the other rubbed soothing circles on her back. He seemed to be struggling with the words, opening and closing his mouth several times only to bite back whatever he was about to say. He simply held her, letting her cry herself out as he held her firm, an anchor in the storm. "You can," he whispered into her hair. "You can and you will." He wiped the tears away with a gentle hand. "You ain't alone, woman. I've got you. I ain't going nowhere."

"But I," she muttered. "I…what I've done…I don't…"

He shushed her, his lips grazing her temple, a reminder of another time when they'd been like this. Only then, it was her lips on him and her reassurances filling the void between them. "You ain't getting rid of me," he mumbled. "Not now. Not ever so get used to it." His arms tightened his breath warm on her cheek. "You're the best person I know, better than anyone."

She let out a shaky laugh, hardly believing what she was hearing. Her head moved, finding his mouth in a timid, curious kiss. His chapped, dry lips moved softly under hers, giving her everything she asked and more besides. His uncharacteristic gentleness brought tears to her eyes that soon dampened her cheeks. "I don't know what to say," she breathed against his mouth.

He pulled back, looking at her solemnly before unwinding his arms and sliding to the edge of the bunk. "Then don't say nothing," he advised as he rose to his feet and moved away. "We'll figure this out, Carol. You ain't alone."

"I know," she rested her forehead on her upturned knees. "I just…"

"We'll figure it out," he repeated stoutly. "It's gonna be fine."

She nodded and managed a tentative smile that faded as soon as he left. She had faith in him, that he would do anything and everything to make this better for her. Her fear, the one she kept locked away deep inside, was that nothing would ever be good again.

End part 2….

_Oh, I need the darkness_

_The sweetness, the sadness_

_The weakness. Oh, I need this_

_I need a lullaby, a kiss goodnight_

_The angel sweet, Love of my life_

_Oh, I need this~ My Skin by Natalie Merchant_

A/N This chapter was heavily influenced by Natalie Merchant's My Skin. All credit for the song lyrics goes to her and whomever wrote the song. I honestly don't know if Carol was being truthful when she confessed. For the sake of this story, I'm saying that she was. Please don't flame me if you disagree...hopefully all our questions will be answered soon.


	3. nothing for me but to love you

Lover Lay Down

Chapter 3: nothing for me but to love you

_Someday, when I'm awfully low,  
When the world is cold,  
I will feel a glow just thinking of you  
And the way you look tonight.  
Yes you're lovely, with your smile so warm  
And your cheeks so soft,  
There is nothing for me but to love you,  
And the way you look tonight. ~written by Jerome Kern with lyrics by Dorothy Fields_

It didn't happen the way they said it would in all those books she'd once read and sighed over. There was no moon, no diamond bright stars against a velvety night sky, no soft music playing. He certainly wasn't anybody's idea of Prince Charming. He was quick-tempered, coarse and rude and more often than not, covered in blood and dirt. If asked, she would smile a Cheshire cat grin and quip that he snuck up on her. He would say that she liked to play the damsel in distress so he'd have to haul her ass out of trouble and he'd gotten used to it. Either way, the journey unfolded in fits and spurts until, in the end, they had no choice but to fall in love. It wasn't a fairytale but it was theirs and they treasured ever minute.

_The first time she saw him: _

It wasn't the gossamer petals of the rose that held her attention nor the incongruous sight of such a pretty thing tucked into the cracked neck of a Budweiser bottle. It was him standing in front of her, all earnest eyes and soft-voiced concern. His tone was quiet and gentle, not something usually associated with the hot-tempered man. She watched in wonder as he plucked the bit of straw out of his mouth and ducked his head after sitting the rose on the counter.

His story touched something inside her, a cold place in her heart that had long since become a barren field. He made no promises or dramatic accounts. No, that wasn't his way. He told his tale with no fuss or frills, just laid it out on the table. _Keep faith,_ it said_. It's okay to hope_. "I'm not fool enough to think there's any flowers blooming for my brother," he said softly. "But I believe this one bloomed for your little girl." She felt her breath catch, tears welling up as she watched him walk away. She reached out and traced one petal, daring to hope for the first time that somehow everything would be okay. She also decided that those angel wings on his vest were there for a reason.

_The first time he touched her: _

She was running blind with eyes only for her little girl, stumbling and staggering out of the barn. She ran with no other thought than to get to her baby and hold her close. It wasn't until he caught her that she realized to hold Sophia would be to embrace death itself. He eased her to the ground and knelt behind her, his arm holding firm about her waist. She called her daughter's name, voice breaking on a sob as the girl lurched toward them, and her blood-shot eyes seeing nothing but food. There was nothing left of her sweet girl, her Sophia, and it ached…God how it hurt to see her like that. She felt his hand slide down her arm, a clumsy caress from a man who flinched away from the gentlest of touches.

Later, as she sat wrapped up in her grief, it came to her that he'd put that aside to be there, her anchor in the storm. He didn't talk because she had no words, nothing but the black and empty space where Sophia used to be. He stayed and it meant the world even if she couldn't find her voice to tell him. His touch and his presence were the only things that kept her sane.

_The first time she made him proud: _

The pistol dwarfed her small hand but she raised it determinedly toward the target, eyes narrowed as she lined up her sights. His hands were businesslike as they straightened her shoulders and maneuvered her arms until he was satisfied that she was where she needed to be.

"Squeeze it," he ordered gruffly. "Don't pull. Find the edge and ride it." She nodded not taking her eyes off the can perched precariously on the fence post. "Don't just stare at it," he huffed in an exasperated tone. "It ain't gonna jump if you look at it long enough. Shoot the fucking thing."

The big pistol barked, the muzzle coming up slightly as she fired off a round. The can leaped into oblivion as the bullet tore through it. She spun to face him, unable to contain her grin. He looked from her to the post with the barest hint of a smile playing at the edges of his mouth. He gave her a nod before ambling off toward the tree line. She watched him go, a warm glow kindling in her belly and filling her up. He didn't need to say the words and she didn't need to hear them. They'd already said everything that needed to be said.

_The first time she teased him: _

If it was anybody else, she wouldn't have tried so hard to bite back her laughter. It wasn't as if they were twelve or twenty for Christ's sake. They were adults living in close proximity in the middle of a freaking zombie apocalypse. It was no time to get bent out of shape over a little thing like lack or privacy or personal space.

"Fuck, Carol," he exploded, hurriedly turning his back, his face the shade of an overripe tomato.

She pulled her t-shirt over her head, tucking her bra into the front pocket of her jeans. "It's okay," she assured him. "It's no big deal, Daryl. You didn't know."

He tossed a cautious glance over his shoulder before turning to face her. She had to stifle another round of laughter when she noticed his eyes fixed firmly on her feet. "Shoulda said something," he mumbled, shifting uneasily. "If you ain't careful, somebody's gonna see something you don't want them to."

"Maybe I did want you to," she returned playfully. "See something, I mean. I could have practiced that maneuver for weeks just waiting for the right time to spring it on you."

He didn't deign to reply, just snorted and rolled his eyes as he walked away. She gave in to the temptation to laugh once he was out of earshot, ignoring that little voice in the back of her mind that whispered there might be some truth to it.

_The first time he let her in: _

He sat on his bunk with his legs tucked up, arms folded and resting on his upturned knees. His red-rimmed eyes took her in as she hovered in the doorway. He didn't speak, didn't wave her in, and didn't give any sign that he'd seen her other than those faded blue eyes flicking in her direction. She knew that was as much of a hello as she was likely to get.

"I put some flowers on his grave," she said quietly. "They're just wildflowers but I thought they would look nice. He deserves better."

His voice was rough, an undercurrent of tears making it heavy and low. "That's what he liked," he blinked then, and swiped his eyes with the back of his hand. "You didn't have to."

She just shook her head as she took a seat at the foot of the bed, still not looking directly at him. "He called me a late bloomer," she smiled at the memory. "I told him maybe he was too. He loved you, Daryl, and you loved him. That's enough to make me miss him. I wish…"

He looked up as her voice trailed off, the afternoon sun catching the telltale wetness that lingered on his cheeks. "I wish too," he whispered. When her hand stretched across the blanket, his met it halfway.

_The first time they kissed: _

There wasn't much reason to celebrate in their corner of Georgia. Glenn and Maggie's wedding gave them a much-needed excuse to stop surviving for a moment and live. The group and Carol in particular threw themselves into preparations, wanting to make it memorable for the couple.

They gathered in the lower field on a late summer evening when the sun sat lazily on the treetops before dipping below the horizon. The clouds were tinged in soft orange and violet shot through with honey tinged bars of light. The bride wore white, a sleeveless lacy shift that swirled about her legs as she walked toward the beaming man awaiting her. Watching them, Carol felt an unaccustomed longing knot her throat. They were so obviously in love and had eyes only for each other. She didn't begrudge them the happiness they'd found together. It gave her hope to see them grow together but it also made her ache.

She didn't see him watching her as she watched the lovebirds. Didn't see the way his eyes lingered or the nervous way he shifted when she happened to glance toward him. She didn't see Rick approach him and speak softly, clasping him on the shoulder and waving one hand in her direction. She was lost in her own thoughts; not knowing that all around her something was changing, unstable, teetering on the edge of falling. She didn't see his jaw firm or the determined way he walked toward her, fists clenched at his side.

He didn't say a word as he caught her wrist, pulling her bemused gaze up to his. He angled his head, asking her to come along, to follow him. She didn't hesitate; didn't question. When he walked toward the cell block, she was a half-step behind. Her pulse gave her away, skittering like a wild thing under his thumb. He paused, letting the beats thrum in his grasp, eyes searching hers for an explanation. When it happened, it surprised them both at how easily they came together.

Her head tilted and his crooked to meet it. She stepped close and he held his ground. The first touch was a fleeting brush, over before it started. He pulled back, giving her an out if she wanted. Her fingers slid into the longer strands at his nape, her body closing those last few inches that remained between them. It was a lazy, languid kiss…the kind familiar lovers exchange. Warm and real and right where they both wanted to be. He dropped her wrist only to wind both arms around her to hold her steady. Hers found their way around his neck as she rose on tiptoe to get a bit closer.

He broke the kiss long enough to ask, "You alright?"

Her answer was muttered against his mouth as she tugged him back down, "More than alright."

_Their first time…._

His lips traced a wet path down her neck as his hands mapped out the hills and valleys of her form. He was gentle, tender in a way that she wouldn't have expected had she thought about it.

She suspected in the back of her mind that this was a side of him few had ever seen. He was open, laid bare, his heart and soul at her feet. He moved slowly, taking it all in. He didn't miss a trick. Every place that brought forth a shiver or a sigh was thoroughly examined, the knowledge stored for later use. His kisses asked rather than demanded and she gladly gave herself up.

He took his time, drawing it out until each second seemed like an eternity. Molten honey coursed through her veins as his lips found a sensitive spot just below her ear. Effervescent and light. That was how she felt. A raspy moan drew an answering one from her. Ragged breath ebbed and flowed as his wandering mouth mapped the lines and planes of her neck. She felt her head tilt of its own accord to give him access to the delta of her collar bones. He laved the vale with the flat of his tongue, one hand snaking around her waist while the other cupped the back of her head to hold her steady.

Hands roamed freely, finding those places that turned breaths into sighs and sighs into moans. He discovered that kissing the thin skin of her neck made her press against him in a delicious fashion. She found that he was ticklish along his ribs and scraping her nails down his spine made him groan her name. Warm lips captured taut peaks, teasing them into tight buds. Limbs loosened and opened as bodies aligned. He fused them together, whispering her name as heat surrounded and enfolded him. She winced at first, awkward until it eased and settled her legs firmly about his hips as they began to move.

The pace was languid and slow, a steady building that coiled tighter until the world stopped and held. Harder. Deeper. Breath coming in short, quick snatches. Foreheads pressed together, lips finding each other. Touch. Taste. Want. Need. Fire…always fire. She burned him like a brand. The words were torn from him unbidden as he felt her begin to fall. "Wanted you for so long. Love you, Carol. Will always love you."

They moved together faster, her legs falling to the side as shudders wracked her body. His hands cupped her face, holding her steady as his lips found hers. She turned her face into his shoulder, hips rising and falling to meet his quickening pace. A soft cry escaped her, nails digging into his shoulders as she rushed headlong toward the cliff, dragging him over with her. The last came out as a breathy whisper as she took everything he had to give.

The silence stretched between them, beautiful in its perfection. His words…his unexpected words…etched themselves into her soul. She opened her eyes, tilted her face up to his, unable to stop the tears that beaded and flowed freely or the avowal that fell from her lips. "I love you too. I will always, always love you. Don't ever doubt it"

It ends…

_Said, woman, take it slow  
And things will be just fine  
You and I'll just use a little patience  
Said, sugar, take the time  
'Cause the lights are shining bright  
You and I've got what it takes  
To make it, We won't fake it,  
I'll never break it  
'cause I can't take it… ~Patience written by Izzy Stradlin_


End file.
